Maina's Games
by Ed-and-Jane
Summary: Maina has always had to hide part of herself from the rest of the world, but when she volunteers for Prim in the Hunger Games, will she blow her family's well kept secret for good?
1. Maina

**Welcome to the new and improved version of my story! Horray!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Hunger Games. Suzanne Collins does though. (I'm jealous of her)**

The sun beats down unapologetically. My muscles cry with exhaustion, but I keep running. Sweat coats my face, makes my shirt plastered to my back, but I'm not worried about how I look. A boy from district 4 runs after me, brandishing his trident, a wretched grin on his perfect face. I know I can defeat him easily, but that will result in a sure, quick death anyways.

As I glance back one last time, his trident is moving forward and is surely going to pierce my back in a few seconds. I spin around quickly, using my last, probably still fatal, resort. I watch his face grow surprised as I shoot out my hands and a purple, glowing, sphere surrounds me. I chuckle slightly as I watch Finnick Odair hurtle away, through the sky above the endless corn fields before the metal hands of a hovercraft surround me, to kill me.

"Maina! Maina wake up!" My little sister, Julietta begins shaking my shoulders to rouse me.

"Ah ah stop." I grumble still half asleep. My eyes flutter open as she finally lets me go. I look out the window and see it's a pearl grey color outside, the sun has not yet risen. I feel bad for Julietta, who is forced to wake me every time I have a nightmare, because the forcefields I unintentionally create while I sleep threaten to pull apart the house. I can see that the metal frame of her bed sports another dent from where it hit.

"I'm sorry Julietta." I say sincerely. She sits on her bed with he knees pulled in under her chin and her arms wrapped over her shins. We both know sleep is impossible now, because it's reaping day. We were lucky to have even fallen asleep last night, but of course I have to spoil it like always with my sporadic energy blasts.

I get out of bed and dress in an old, faded blue dress that only goes to my knees now. I tiptoe past my parents' bedroom and down a flight of creaky old stairs. I kick my way through the scattered spools of thread that coat the floor of our clothing store. As I step into my boots and reach down to lace them, I see a dark figure standing in the doorway. I stand all the way up and squint in the darkness.

"Hey Kiddo." My father says as he steps into a shaft of pale light that's streaming in through the dusty storefront window. He walks forward a few more steps and surrounds me in a hug. I inhale the scent of fire from his jacket. I love that smell, I don't know why, I just do. "What're you doing up so early?" He asks me. He doesn't have to ask. He knows it was a nightmare that woke me. I always have nightmares on reaping day, usually they're about Finnick Odair, a handsome boy who won the games at fourteen almost ten years ago. Just as I can create forcefields, I also have premonitions, and I can feel the bad seeping from his pores.

I can't help but wallow in my own horror as the dream overcomes me again. If I were ever in the Hunger Games, I don't know if I could retain myself. I would surely blow my family's well kept secret for good...

My great-grandfather was the one who started it. When he was just a few years older than I am, he began to work in the mines. It was only his first day when there was some sort of mine explosion. Nearly everybody was thought to be dead, but he was the only lucky survivor. Something within the mine had changed him forever though, and changed our whole family forever. He didn't even know it himself, but when he married and had children, all of them were born with extraordinary abilities that we kept a secret from the Capitol for generations...

"I better get going." My father says as he slings his pick over his shoulder. "The mines have to close early today for the reaping, so if I'm late, I'll be in big dodo." He tells me. I shake my head, grinning. I don't know why he bothers to say that he's going to work, everyone knows that all work is canceled on such an important "holiday" as today is. I can tell that he's going to pick something up, like cookies from the bakery or new fabric for dresses. I pick up my basket from the cupboard in the room behind my mother's little shop, and step out the back door, taking the rusty key from ribbon around my neck and locking it.

The sun begins to peek over the horizon, turning the sky a dull orange color, marking a new day. I walk over to the edge of a small field, under a green leafy tree and look out above the tree line at the glowing red orb before turning down the path to the well. I fill a small basin with water, set down my basket, and begin to wash the clothes I've brought out. I rub them until every trace of dirt is out, then hang them on the clothes line next to all the rags and tatters of fabric that my mother uses to construct new clothing for the less wealthy people of district 12.

I stroll through the alleyway between my house and the bakery and into the square. People are milling around, washing clothes and polishing their shop windows before the townspeople come to shop for their daily necessities. I walk to the butchers shop for our reaping day lamb and spot my best friend Eleanor sweeping coal dust from the front steps.

"Hey Maina!" she cries as I approach her. "Happy reaping day!"

"Why thank you!" I reply sarcastically.

"Come for your reaping day lamb?" she asks. After sixteen years, she knows what my family purchases every year.

"You bet." I reply. I open the door and the little bells around the doorknob chime. Eleanor's mother is exactly what you would expect a butcher to look like, stout, and angry looking, but she likes me enough and gets me my lamb and I pay her and we carry on with our lives.

My next stop is for coal, which district 12 is abundant with. I get a new gear for my mother's malfunctioning sowing machine and another packet of tomato seeds for the poor tomatoes that Julietta can't seem to grow.

I head back across the square to my last stop, the bakery. I walk up the storefront window and can't help marveling at the cookies and cakes the are decorated so wonderfully. I open the door and the jingle-bells tinkle like soft rain on a metal rooftop. I am immediately intoxicated by the wonderful fumes of baking bread. It is very warm inside and I can see fires crackling in the wide brick ovens towards the back of the shop. I can also see him.

Peeta has a determined, focused, look on his face as he draws the last swirl of frosting onto his tiger lily sugar cookie. Satisfaction colors his features and he leans back to admire his masterpiece.

"Pretty cookie." I tell him. He glances up, his eyes lighting, and gives me a beautiful smile.

"Thank you." he replies. I step up to the counter and he rises and comes over to stand across from me.

"Two loaves of the pine nut and thyme bread and one of those cheese buns please." I say with a smile.

"Sure." He replies and gets me the two warm loaves of bread that he'd just pulled out of the oven and the bun. I lay out a checkered cloth and and swath the bread in it to keep it warm.

"Thanks." I say and slide an array of coins from my little bag of change across the table.

"You want the cookie too? No charge." He says politely and smiles again. I stare into his gorgeous blue eyes for a moment and watch as the light reveals his long golden lashes.

"Sure, thank you." I say. He places the cookie in my hand and my heart leaps when our skins touches. "See you later." I say as I turn.

"See you." He replies when I step out the door.

As I nibble on my cookie, I think about how I can't help but love Peeta. It's really not something I can control. He's so charismatic and polite and handsome and smart and talented... but I know he doesn't think of me the same way. He's as hopelessly in love with Katniss Everdeen as I am with him. I don't blame him though. She's strong and smart and beautiful and when she sings, the whole world seems to stop to listen.

I envy Katniss greatly, but not in a hateful way, more like an admiring way. It's strange to be jealous of someone such as her because my life is heaven compared to hers. Her father died in a huge mine explosion and every day her family is threatened by hunger. But I know her secret, thanks to Julietta's uncanny ability to read minds. She hunts in the forests outside of district 12, an area that is out of bounds (clearly marked by an electric fence that's hardly ever running), a felony that is punishable by death.

I walk through the back door of the house and unload the things from my basket onto our cramped kitchen table. I bounce up the stairs to my bedroom and sit on my bed by Julietta to stitch the holes closed in some old dresses. I look out across town through the dusty window by my bedside and see Katniss Everdeen across the block, heading home, with her game bag slung over her shoulder.


	2. The Reaping

**Installment dos!**

At one, I cook up some of our lamb in a stew while my mother and sister mend clothes. I get water from the well and my mother prepares a bath with scented oils for Julietta and then me.

"For you." Mother said as she hands me a dress. It's a soft green color and is embroidered with flowers that match the ones in our field in spring. "I thought it would bring out your eyes." Mother continued.

"It's beautiful." I say. "Thank you." and it really is. When I put it on, it does bring out my eyes, which are an uncommon emerald green color. I help Julietta with her dress that's pale blue and looks lovely with her long, golden hair which I then french braid. My own hair, which is a light golden brown, I keep down, except a small bit which I braid back.

I can practically feel Julietta's nervousness. This year is the first time that she's an eligible tribute. It's extremely unlikely that she'll get chosen though. Her name is only entered one time. Luckily, we don't live in the Seam and we don't need tesserae.

"It's okay." I try to soothe her, stroking her hair. "We'll be fine." For some reason, I sense that we won't be fine, a result of my crazy premonitions, but my mind knows better. Hardly anyone is more safe than us.

I watch the square fill as the day creeps towards two o'clock. I see Katniss and her sister, Julietta's best friend, Prim, step under the roped off section in the square. I can see Peeta leaving the bakery to join his friends there as well. I hear the reporters clambering onto our rooftop to film, since our house has a good view to the Justice Building.

A few minutes later, we leave the house and meander over into our roped off sections for the eligible tributes. I go and stand beside Eleanor who is standing beside Katniss. Katniss looked especially nice today, wearing the same dress I'd seen her mother wear in the reruns of the games. Her dark hair is so intricately braided that I can't help but stare for a moment.

Just then, the clock strikes two, the loud dong resinating throughout the square. Mayor Undersee stands up and begins his yearly spiel. He talks about the origins of the Panem, the rules of the Hunger Games, the origin of the Hunger Games, about district 13 getting blown up, all that jazz.

"It's both time for repentance and for thanks," the mayor finishes, and then reads the list of winners from district 12, which doesn't take long because there have only ever been two. Haymitch Abernathy stumbles up to the stage, hollering some gibberish, drunk like always, and attempts to hug Effie Trinket, the district's escort. The mayor, obviously flustered, introduces Effie Trinket to get Haymitch to stop acting like an idiot.

"Happy Hunger Games! May the odds be _ever_ in your favor!" Effie yelps as she bounces across the stage. Effie is a moderately insane woman straight from the Capitol. She has bright pink hair that changes color every year. This year she's wearing a spring green suit that is a similar color to my dress. Effie continues about how it's an honor to be here and blah blah blah the same as every year.

"It's time for the drawing!" she squeals, "Ladies first!" Effie heads over to the big glass sphere that holds all the name slips of every single girl that's twelve through eighteen in district 12. Effie digs her hand deep into the ball and pulls out a name. The crowd takes in a breath as she reads it over and suddenly I see a glimpse of someone fainting. I don't have to look to know it's Julietta who's read her mind and knows who's chosen. I run over to her but she's out pretty good. Someone we know has gotten picked, whether it's her or me, or a friend, I don't know, but I've already made up my mind. Effie walks back to the podium and reads into the microphone.

"Primrose Everdeen." She says. Prim is next to me now and she jumps slightly before she begins to walk to the podium. I stop cradling Julietta's head and stand up. Across the crowd I can see, and sense, that Katniss is about to volunteer. No. Not Katniss, her family needs her, if she dies, they'll die, and that'd kill Peeta too. So I stay clear on my decision. I shoot my hand up and call out.

"I volunteer!"


	3. Goodbyes

It seems all the people of district 12 have stopped breathing, surely I have. I walk slowly up to the makeshift stage stationed in front of the Justice Building. The silence is crushing. What have I done! I think. This is what I've always feared! Competing in the games is like the ultimate death sentence. You lose, you die. When I walk up the steps and stand next to Effie I hear a yelp that turns to a scream that turns to a wale. My mother. I glance at Katniss, who stands with her eyes wide with horror, her mouth open. No one in district 12 _ever_ volunteers. The silence seems to stretch for years but it is only a couple seconds, until suddenly, everyone simultaneously presses the three middle fingers of their left hand to their lips and then holds it out for me. I can't help but let a few tears escape before I contain myself. I don't want to get emotional. I don't want to be thought of as weak.

"Okay..." chirps Effie after a moment, clearly a bit befuddled. "Time for the boys." Even though I know my life was now over, I can still find some meaning to why I've done this. I've done this for Prim, I've done this for Katniss, I've done this for Gale, but most of all, I've done this for Peeta. Now Peeta doesn't have to see her die, doesn't have to see her suffer. Now Peeta can be with her and be happy, and that's really all I want for him. But since I already know my death is near, I almost don't pay attention to the name that is called. I almost didn't notice at first because the name was said at the same time I thought it. But then it hit me.

No. No. Oh no. No. This cannot be happening. No. This is a dream. This is a nightmare. Just another nightmare This isn't real. Common Julietta, wake me up. This isn't happening. I was about to make a force field, force Julietta to shake me awake, when I notice that this is reality. No way. Effie could not have just called Peeta Mellark's name.

But there he is, standing beside me now. Obviously not a dream. I hear a horrible ripping sound. I want it to stop. It made me want to cry. But then I notice it's me, trying to stifle a sob. The ripping gets louder and tears from my throat out into the silence, echoing around the streets, to the coal mines, through my bedroom, throughout the bakery and the pretty tiger lily cookies, through the market, the fields, the forbidden woods, the Seam, throughout all of district 12.

The next thing I know, I'm being towed away, inside the Justice Building to a small room. They tell me I have a half an hour for saying goodbyes. The first person to come in is my mother.

"Oh Maina! What happened?" My mother cries as she wraps her arms around me.

"I'm sorry Mama." I whimper. "I don't know what happened. I just knew that I couldn't let Katniss compete. Her family needs her!" I cry.

"We need you Maina! I need you!"

"No, you'll be fine without me." I assure her, and it hurts a little to know it's true.

"No, no we need you! We... need..." but her words are cut off by sobs. The rest of the time I spend with her, we are crying." The next person who comes in is Julietta. This conversation is much the same as the prior.

After we are done crying, Julietta asks me the question I've been probing over ever since my bold decision.

"Are you going to..." She didn't have to finish the sentence for me to know what she's said. She's been wondering if I am going to use my "powers" in the arena.

"I don't know." I whisper. I am sure the room is rigged with cameras, and she has the same notion. "Goodbye." I whisper, and the capital guards take her away. Then comes my father. Then Eleanor. And then the last person.

The door opens a crack, and the person seems to hesitate. When it swings all the way open I am startled by the face I see. Katniss Everdeen.

She looks truly apologetic.

"You didn't have to do that." She says quietly as she sits down next to me on the big velvet sofa, pretty much the only piece of furniture in the room.

"Yes I did." I say, nodding slightly. "Your family needs you more than mine needs me." She shakes her head sorrowfully, but Katniss has always had that sixth sense, though not as apparent as mine. She can tell that that's not the whole reason, not a big enough reason to do something as drastic as this.

"...was that the only reason?" she asks me.

"...no." I say. I don't want to talk about it, but the silence is brooding. "It was for Peeta." She seems genuinely startled about this.

"For... Peeta?"

"You've never noticed? He loves you Katniss. But I love him, and I couldn't let you go, he'd have been crushed... but then it was all for nothing." Understanding floods her face along with horror, sorrow, and guilt.

"You're not planning on... coming back... are you?" she asks. I shake my head. There is no way on earth I'll let anything happen to Peeta. Whether it came down to just us or not. I will kill myself.

And though neither Katniss nor I know each other well, we both cry for each other and hug until the capital guards drag her away.

"Wait!" She yelled before they can pull her from the room. She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a shiny golden pin with a bird on it. I recognize it from my friend Madge, the mayor's daughter.

"Madge wanted me to give this to you. It's a mockingjay. Her aunt wore it in the games... And Maina, good luck. I'm so sorry." Then they whisk her away.


	4. The Arena

The next week speeds by quickly, and before I know it, I am being zipped up the glass tube into the arena. Everything in the capital seems to blend together into one big mush. Only a few things stand out...

The night we had our interviews was very suspenseful. Cinna, my costume designer, was brilliant. His clothes were amazing, making me known as "The Girl on Fire." That night, I was dressed in a dress the colors of a flame itself. In fact, if I was as drunk as Haymitch always is, I'd probably have thought I was on fire.

It was hard to listen to all the other tributes as they bragged about themselves and practically assured us all that they would be happy to kill you.

Haymitch hadn't spoken to me much about what I was supposed to say during the interview. He said I was personable enough not to make a fool out of myself and that I should just go with the flow.

"So, Ms. Keeper," Caesar Flickerman started. "That's quite a beautiful dress you have on."

"Yes, I think so too." I responded, trying to keep it light. "My stylist, Cinna, really is brilliant! Nobody's ever thought of fire for district 12's theme before."

"That sure is true! Everyone in the capital is raving about that..." Caesar kept up mindless banter that I sure didn't care about until the end.

"So Maina, you're a very pretty girl, is there anything you'd like to say to a boyfriend back home?" I shake my head.

"I don't have a boyfriend." I say, but I don't sound disappointed, more like I think this comment is rather funny.

"No? Anyone you like back home? Someone you hope to win for?" My stomach turns inside as I probe over what to say.

"Well... there is somebody... but I can't win for him exactly."

"Oh? Why not?" Caesar asks.

"Well... because... it's... Peeta." I say. I hang my head a bit, knowing that now everyone in Panem now knows my biggest secret... no... my second biggest secret seeing that I think being able to create force fields and knowing things before they happen is probably a bigger secret.

"Wow! Peeta! That's a big confession to make! Oh, what a stroke of bad luck! How do you feel about fighting against him?"

"Well... all I can say is I hope it doesn't come to that." I say and luckily, the bell rings then and I'm free to leave the hot seat. As I go to sit beside Peeta, I can see a blush on his face before he stands for his portion of the interview.

"Okay Mr. Mellark," Caesar says. He babbles for a minute, joking around and talking about the usual things- Peeta's so good with words- and then turns to my big confession. My stomach is churning as I await his reply.

"So Peeta, what do you think about Ms. Keeper's statement?"

"I'm flattered!" He starts, "Maina's such a great girl. Did you know she's my next door neighbor? She always stops by to say hello."

"Haha that's great. Do you feel the same way about her?" I hate how Caesar has the ability to say really awkward things without making them seem awkward yet they're still awkward... I hate it even though that makes no sense.

"I..." Peeta didn't know what to say without making me feel bad. It was okay. I knew he liked Katniss. I wished I could tell him that but I think they might get really mad at me. Just as the words were about to slip from my mouth, Peeta responded.

"Maina's like family to me... and I love her in that way."

"It's always rough with friends in the arena. How will you feel with her as your enemy?"

"I couldn't imagine a world without her, so this should be a tough few weeks."

I am quickly shaken back to reality. It's weird how when you're so close to the end of your life that things really do seem to flash before your eyes. I've just said goodbye to Cinna who's dressed me and wished me good luck. For some reason, I'm not worried to be at my deathbed. I feel like I'm not going to die... well I am but not the same as other people. Maybe it's a premonition. I think I'm just starting to go crazy.

The tube shrinks down around me and I stand in the middle of a small ring. I don't dare step out of it, in fear I'll explode, which I will. I see Peeta a little while back, and I can see the golden cornucopia out there in front of me. The gong sounds and people run. They all run for the cornucopia's copious gifts. I badly want to run toward it too, but instead I run for the fields. I know fields the best, seeing that I've often explored the one in my backyard when I was young. I also know many types of wheat from helping out occasionally in the bakery.

Once I was in the confines of the tall grain, I keep running. I don't see anyone around me or pursuing me. After a straight hour of running, I stop in the middle of the fields. If it wasn't for my keen senses that could lead me right out, I would have never chosen this route. I can hear cannons sounding and I am immediately glad I missed the initial bloodbath and took cover.

Haymitch had decided that it would be a good idea for me to "play dumb." I wasn't exactly skilled in any sort of special defense... that he knew of anyways. I'd only told him that I would be able to get my way out of a fight if it came to that. Then I told him not to ask. I'd also gotten a purposely low score in my training session so I wouldn't be so desirable to kill. Luckily, I've learned enough self defense in the training center that if it came to hand to hand combat, I'd probably be able to fight my way through it, though I can't throw dangerously sharp knives like the girl from district 2 or shoot an arrow so accurately that I hit can hit a squirrel in the eye every time. I wait in the fields until the sun goes down, listening to anything and everything acutely. I examine the wheat, placing it's usefulness if I have to eat it, but unfortunately, it doesn't look like any wheat I've ever seen.

I inch forward through the field, letting myself go the correct way automatically. Suddenly, something doesn't feel right. I crouch down, hiding myself, as I hear someone rustling through the wheat just yards away. I can tell by his heavy, strong pace that it's Thresh, a terrifyingly strong man-child from district 11.

There's a horrible screech and I hear Thresh fall to the ground and then see the figure of a large bird soaring away across the moonlit sky.

Bending down low, I creep toward Thresh's still body. There's a large wound in his neck, but he's still breathing and a cannon hasn't fired. I grab his backpack which lays thrown across the ground, and hurry off before he wakes.

The moon is almost all the way up when I reach the clearing by the cornucopia. This trip was not as necessary as before, because now I have the food from Thresh's pack... well I'm guessing there's food but I haven't actually looked yet. I'm usually a good guesser though.

I creep up to the cornucopia, looking around at all angles even though I can sense the coast is clear. I step inside the mouth and see all the things that are revealed. Inside, there are backpacks and weapons galore. I find a bow and a sheath of arrows. I hold them up and grin for Katniss, because my spidy senses are tingling and they tell me I'm on camera now. Then I grab some knives and a medical kit and run for the hills... well not literally.

In the fields, I examine my findings in Thresh's pack. There's a flashlight, which is handy because it helps me scope out my treasures. I find a bowl, some beef jerky, nuts, a bottle of water and iodine, dried fruit, a tiny, yet surely expandable, sleeping bag, and some gloves. I wonder what the gloves are for since it seems pretty warm in the arena. Just as I lay down on my sleeping bag, the anthem plays and I see faces across the sky. Eight people killed, already a third. I am extremely thankful that Peeta is not one of them. After a handful of nuts, I am very sleepy, and strangely not hungry. I drift off and the nightmares begin.

I am in the arena, running from Finnick like usual, I don't know what exactly makes me hate him so much, but this time I have all my stuff loaded on my back. As I run, I turn and randomly fire arrows, but each time it hits someone I love. First time it's Julietta, second time my mother, third time my father, fourth time Eleanor, fifth time Peeta, sixth time Katniss. I am so surprised to see Katniss in the arena that I stop running. I don't really understand why I'm not surprised to see my parents, who aren't even eligible tributes, but I'm surprised to see her. She shoots and arrow at me with an evil grin, but instead of hitting me, it hits a poor mockingjay, laying beside me. I turn in horror but then there's Finnick again, with his trident. I scream and pull out my hands to block and a forcefield emerges like always.

A scream awakes me and I jolt upright to see my hands are held out and the purple glow of a force field is fading away. I really REALLY hope I wasn't just on camera. Luckily capitol viewers don't find it very interesting to see a random tribute asleep in a field. I stand up and tiptoe toward the direction of the scream. A girl with a foxlike face lays on the ground, stunned by the energy exuding from my palms. Oops. Guess I cheated.


	5. Tornado

I go to pack up and move away from fox face, when I notice that she's stolen nearly half of my food and I'd stunned her during her pursuit. Sweet. She seems clever, and I momentarily consider joining an alliance with her... nah.

The sun has not yet risen as I tiptoe throughout the grain maze. I can sense that others are coming now though, probably going after the person who's screamed. I have to get out of here... fast. I veer left, ducking down out of sight, even though the field is so tall its max hight is more than a yard over my head.

Muffled voices can be heard close by. I can make out Cato amongst them so I know it must be the careers. But a very familiar voice makes me jump, almost ruining my cover. It's Peeta. I want to leap out and surrender myself to him. At least then I'd be able to see his face again. After my confession of love and his of friendship, I've felt a little awkward with him. I mean, I've always known he didn't like me in the same way, but I assume that he didn't know of my love for him. But Effie said it felt like with were a close knit family during the interview, not awkward. That was relieving because I didn't want to look pitiful in front of all of Panem, even if I've just willingly walked into a death sentence with no combat skills whatsoever.

I watch as I can slowly see the sun sliding out over the horizon. Well I can't see the sun but the sky above it turned from black, to navy, to purple, to crimson, to orange. I am momentarily afraid that I will be discovered in the new morning light, but the careers walk right by, to cocky to notice anything besides themselves... well besides Peeta. You'd think that Peeta wouldn't be joining the careers, a group notorious for pretty much killing everyone in sight, with the whole country thinking he couldn't imagine living without me.

Upon their discovery of fox face, I make my escape. She must've regained consciousness again, because I can hear her distinct screams as they surely are threatening her with murderous glares, and sharpened knives clenched in their practiced hands. I retreat quickly, trying to gain as much space between us as possible. I am getting very hungry and am thinking about finding a decent meal when two simultaneous cannons are fired. I begin to dash as fast as I can once I reach the clearing, not totally sure where I'm going, just sure that I'm not about to let myself get killed.

There are twelve tributes left to kill now; ten dead, one me, and one Peeta, who obviously I would never kill. I would've thought we'd be an alliance, seeing that we'd told the country that we won't kill each other. I decide I'd better learn to fire an arrow if it's going to do me any help. I pray for Katniss's skill and precision in this matter as I attempt to hold my bow correctly. I took about an hour of archery in the training center, so I'm about as good as... well definitely not as good as I could be.

I position the arrow and hold my left arm out straight, gripping the bow with my left hand. I pinch the string with my right three fingers and pull it back to the corner of my mouth, making sure my elbow is parallel to the ground and hope that I have my stance right so far. I focus at a point in the distance and let go with my right hand. The arrow goes flying towards the tree I was aiming at, and lucky for me, it spears a squirrel that oh so stupidly moved right to the area where my arrow landed. Score! I'm sure Katniss would be proud.

After shooting around for a bit, I feel I've gotten the hang of it, usually hitting my mark, but not always. The three fingers on my left hand have been rubbed raw by the string though. I suddenly remember the gloves and slip one on my right hand, glad to have a use for it.

I decide it would be smart to move on, since the careers are bound to be heading back soon. I leap over roots, and logs, feeling surprised that I'm not anywhere near as uptight as I figured I'd be in the games. I really feel quite good, believe it or not. Everything seems kind of like a dream, like I'm not really here, but it's obvious that I am when I trip over a root and fall flat on my face. I roll over onto my back. Mud cakes my mouth shut and I spit dirt onto the ground beside me. As I lay, just staying there for a minute, I see a hint of a small figure dashing through the trees.

I stand with a jolt, and stare warily at the branches high above me. There's no sound, but occasionally I see a small flick of mocha through the leaves. I have the strangest feeling and know that this is not an animal that's continuously alluding me. Cautiously, I slide the bow down off my shoulder and draw out an arrow, very pleased that they haven't cracked in the impact of my fall. I position it and point it randomly at the treetops. I know the tribute has frozen and I've somehow chosen the correct spot to aim.

"I know you're there." I say in a low voice that is very hoarse sounding. This is probably the longest time I have ever gone without speaking. There's no response. "I don't want to hurt you." I say so quietly that it seems there's no way that whoever is up in the trees can hear me. I know that I could never kill someone in these games, at least not on purpose, and that's just another reason why I could never win. In a sudden flick, the tribute clambers down a tree trunk and appears in front of me.

I immediately recognize it as Rue, the female tribute from district 11. She distinctly reminded me of Katniss's sister Prim... but I doubt that Prim could swing through treetops like a spider monkey. I put down my bow and offer my hand to her.

"Go in peace?" I ask. This is not a very violent or exciting thing to do, and I'm sure the viewers throughout the country are groaning, wishing for more action. Rue tentatively reaches out her hand and shakes mine lightly. All of a sudden, there's a loud swishing coming from somewhere out of the confines of the forest.

"Let's go check that out first." Rue suggests, since obviously she can see through my fake charade of toughness and tell that there is no way in a million years I will hurt her, unless I tripped over a root and accidentally jabbed an arrow in her back... I shake the thought away. We dash through the forest, me along the ground and Rue swinging through the trees like Tarzan. Miles away, I can hear a cannon sounding. When we reach the clearing, I get pulled into a metaphorical whirlwind.

"Tornado!" I screech at Rue, trying to speak over the deafening howl of the wind. We do an about-face and run right back into the forest. I take a fleeting glance, and see that nearly the entire field of wheat has been torn from the ground and is probably swirling around in the angry storm. I keep Rue from climbing in the trees because they'd be pulled from the ground as soon as the tornado came close.

After running for nearly half an hour, we are still being pursued by the tornado. We run right up to a wall of rock and I almost ram into it. The twister is inching nearer as we search around for a place to hide in. Panic threatens to win my over and freeze my limbs into place. I try to keep a level head as time keeps ticking, but it's hard in such a dire circumstance.

"In here!" I scream to Rue as I point to a small entryway between two large boulders. We slip inside and it is surprisingly dark. The ground beneath us rumbles as the tornado carves a path of destruction through the forest. I watch through the tiny gap at the top of the enclosure as it closes the space we'd made between us.

Rue tries to tell me something but I can't hear her over the roar. She points through the gap at the top of the little cave and I can see a tree falling over right next to us. It hits the rocky wall with a mighty bang and stones around us crumble. I throw my arms over my head to shelter myself, but a large chunk of rock hits Rue square in the temple.

"Rue!" I scream at her as she falls lifelessly to the ground. I kneel down beside her and feel her pulse- she's still alive but unconscious. The tornado is hurtling toward us and begins to rip the boulders from our hiding spot, leaving us out in the open and in the direct path of the swirling whirlwind. I beg Rue to get up, but she is still not awake. I know we'll both die if I don't do something about it, but I don't have time to consider my options. I throw my palms up to the storm and surround us in a tight sphere of energy. The tornado tries to penetrate it, but fails and heads right over the cliff behind us. I don't think regular tornados do that that often. I hope desperately that the blurring chaos of the wind diluted any picture or recording that the Capitol's cameras got of me.

Rue is still not conscious, so I swing her up into my arms, carrying her slight form easily. It is surprisingly calm now, despite the trail disaster the twister created. I can hear the birds again, singing softly. I hear another cannon and am extremely alarmed. It sounds exactly like usual, except quieter, and coming from directly above me. I look up and see the distinct shape and color of a Jabberjay. It opens it's mouth again and makes the sound of a cannon firing. I am chuckling as I walk away.


	6. Stings and Saviors

**Hey...y'all. Sorry that I haven't posted in about a million years. But I've updated the story a little. Ya know, fixed some typos (and all of my stupid tense problems... well most of them) and changed the plot a little bit... so ya. I've done this as of 7/20/10.**

While I walk through the forest, Rue in my arms, a sheath of arrows and my bow over my shoulder, which I'm not really sure is okay to do but oh well, I begin to wonder how I've made it this far without being attacked by a person. Surely it's not because people are afraid of me, because I'm sure they're not. I can't think of anybody in the world that looks less threatening than me... well perhaps Prim but really that's it. Maybe people just don't care that much about me. Maybe my playing dumb really will work. But I know inside that I actually am not hoping to be the one who lives. Really, I pray that it's Peeta. Though I can't imagine him hurting anyone either, he's such a smooth talker that he could probably convince someone to kill themselves.

Without notice, Rue starts to stir. I quickly lay her down on the forest floor and back up behind a tree, not sure if she'll be impulsive and kill me or not. Actually, she's another person that seems nearly as harmless as me, so I emerge from my hiding spot, hoping she's not the type that would attack.

"Oww." she moans quietly, rubbing the spot on her temple where the rock hit, which I can now see has a prominent lump on it. She looks around confused, hopefully she doesn't have amnesia. "Maina?" she whispers as she searches the trees for me. Oh. So she does remember me. I take that as an invitation to come forward.

"Hey Rue. Hit your head pretty hard didn't ya?" I say as I kneel by her side.

"Yeah." she groans and rolls her head from side to side. "What happened? I can't remember anything after we got into that cave." Oh well, funny you should ask. A big, honking rock came and hit you in the head. I screamed at you but you didn't wake up so I used my magic powers to keep the tornado from killing us.

"You passed out when a rock hit you right here." I say, gently touching the lump above her ear.

"Ow." she groans again. I notice that there is also fresh blood trickling down her face. How could I have missed that?

"Oh, I can help with that!" I grab my pack, zip it open, and search through the contents. Finally I find the first-aid kit and open it up. Inside, there are bandages, rubbing alcohols and gauze. I put some alcohol on a piece of gauze and very gently clean out her cut. She cringes often, and I wince too, feeling her pain. When I was nine, I walked through a pricker bush to pick a pretty flower. I came home crying with my legs bleeding and covered in scratches so she took me to the apothecary where they rubbed my legs until they were the color of the pretty pink rose I'd picked. When Rue's cut is clean, I find a small bandage and put it over the wound to keep out infection.

"Thank you." She says softly. Slowly, an uncomfortable feeling accumulates in the pit of my stomach. Right on cue, a cannon fires, shortly followed by another blast.

Rue's the first one to notice the sound. It's a very low humming, increasing and decreasing in sound frequency constantly. Out of the corner of my eye, I see something tiny zip past my range of sight. It's flying. It's golden.

"Tracker jackers!" I scream. We both leap up and run, probably not the smartest thing to do when you're surrounded by hornets. Rue climbs a tree with stealth and begins to leap from branch to branch like a squirrel, or a monkey, or some kind of quick, tree-jumping bird. It's no use though, they're gaining on us and soon, they'll overtake us. I'm too busy looking back at the raging tracker jackers to notice the tree root protruding from the rich forest soil. My toe catches and I fall easily, getting a mouth full of dirt. Delicious. I scream as the sound of their buzzing fills my ears, drowning out all of my thoughts. I can tell I'm screaming by how hoarse and sore my throat is beginning to feel, but hearing at this point, is impossible. I am just beginning to wonder why they aren't stinging, when I feel the pang of pain coming from my lower leg and then another along my collar bone.

My world begins to get fuzzy as I hear what sounds like a war cry, but I can't be sure since I know I am going to be delusional and maybe it's already starting. Everything starts to blur together. I try to stand, to get somewhere with more cover from other tributes, but I fall over again and again until everything is just a green blur above me. I guess I'm so past expecting to survive these games that I don't even worry when my body goes numb and I find myself unable to move. My eyes continue to stare upwards and I vaguely notice that the hornets are gone as I lose consciousness.

It's sheer torture when the delusions set in. I scream as bugs crawl beneath my skin and then my skin starts bubbling and pussing and I flail my arms and legs as if it will save me, but of course none of it is real, except the excruciating pain. That's real as can be.

When I awake, I'm groggy and aching, especially on my leg and just below my neck, where the tracker jackers stung me. I feel very disoriented and notice that it's because I'm not anywhere I've ever been. I'm laying next to a stream, surrounded by tall trees as well as boulders the size of coal carts. My stomach is aching and I'm so parched I could drink a whole basin of water. I push myself up onto my elbows and my head is already spinning, probably from dehydration.

"Oh good, you're up." I jump and then freeze, noticing I'm not alone. He chuckles. "It's okay. I won't hurt you." Using most of my strength, I manage to turn around and see Peeta, crouching on a rock and popping berries into his mouth.

"I thought you were with the Careers." I croak. My throat is so dry that it burns.

"I was, but when I saw you lying there out in the open, I decided it would be a good time to break off from them. They were planning on finishing me off soon anyways." he gives me one of winning smiles and jumps off the rock. "You must be thirsty. Here," he brings me his water bottle and brings it to my lips. I'm grateful because I doubt I would be able to hold it up on my own.

"How long have I been out?" I still sound hoarse but my throat is feeling better, thanks to the water.

"A couple days. What happened to you?"

"Trackerjackers." I reply, fingering the round welt on my collarbone. I didn't bother to take the stingers out before, and now I'm wincing as I attempt to dislodge them from my skin. "They came out of nowhere-" I pause to wince as I finally remove the second stinger. "-and attack Rue and me..." Peeta looks down briefly and when his eyes return to mine, they're filled with a newfound sorrow. "Rue... is she... okay?" Peeta looks down again and shakes his head slowly.

"The bees?... did they get her too?"

"Ya... but that's not what did it... I think Cato got to her while she was unconscious." Suddenly, I'm more angry than I've ever been. They have no right to do this to anyone! Not the tributes, but the Capitol! We shouldn't have to kill each other! It's against nature! Rue never did anything to anyone! Neither did her family, or her friends, or her neighbors! I grind my teeth together and dig my fingers into the dirt. I can feel a forcefield trying to force its way out of my hands, but I manage to contain myself.

"Peeta..." I whimper. "I wish we didn't have to do this. I wish no one had to die..." once the words are out, I regret them. It's an act of rebellion just to say that. My family has had to be more careful than any other one in our nation. We've always played it safe, never done anything out of line, always avoided any government interaction. Hopefully I didn't just ruin it for us.

"I know." Peeta says quietly. He wraps one of his arms around my back and I lean my head on his shoulder and we sit like this for what seems like a century.


	7. The Escape

About an hour later, I manage to shoot another squirrel and wait the agonizing minutes for it to cook. It feels so good when the hunger subsides and I notice it's because this is my first real meal since that squirrel my second day in the arena, and today is the... fourth... or fifth... day. I feel quite good now, at peace again, because of my new alliance with Peeta. It's nice not to have to watch my back all of the time, especially now that we finally aren't being pursued by wind storms and angry bees. I'm already hungry again by the time the sun is in the middle of the sky, so Peeta and I hunt for berries and nuts in the woods by our little stream-side camp. I recognize some from the apothecary shop and from gathering them with Julietta in the meadow. Thinking of home stirs up unhappy feelings in my stomach, so I shake it off and focus on the task at hand.

"So... did you look at all that grain in the fields?" I ask.

"No I didn't get the chance. The Careers don't focus to much on little details like that when they've got a plethora of food all for themselves by the lake. I'd like to though." So that's where the careers get their food? And from their abundance of sponsors probably. Being from the wealthier districts, they probably didn't have to face hunger ever. And I hardly should complain. I live in the town. We almost always have plenty of food on the table, though it might be stale.

"I was in there for the first couple days but I didn't recognize much of it, but then again, I'm hardly ever in the bakery so I don't know much about it. That would be funny to bake a nice loaf of bread during the games." Peeta chuckles.

"Ya. It'd be nice to be able to do something. I'm not too good at shooting things or even knowing what plants are edible." He says as he examines a dark, roundish berry. Images of darkness and death pass through my mind for a moment and then the premonition passes.

"Don't eat that." I warn him. He blushes and tosses it into the woods. I laugh because if I wasn't a total freak I probably would've eaten it too.

"What is it?" he asks. I have to think for a moment because I don't exactly know what it is.

"I don't remember... it's called... something having to do with darkness..." and then I wing it because I'm not being very believable. "Julietta and I found some once and my father warned us not to eat them; it kills you as soon as it goes down your throat." Peeta swallows and looks frightened.

When the sun finally retreats over horizon, we return to the rocky shore of our campground and divide up our pretty meager supply of collected roots and berries and such. I add in some dried fruit and beef and we have a quaint but sufficient dinner. The anthem plays and lights up the sky. There are no deaths today. That's calming. But also troubling. If they don't get some action soon, then the viewers will get bored. I groan because I'm finally getting settled somewhere so of course we'll get kicked out soon.

I throw my sleeping bag and pack over my shoulder and Peeta does the same. We scale a tree and set up a nice roost up in the branches. I'm surprised to find that I'm quite a good climber despite the fact I don't do it that often, besides the big tree in our yard back home. I'm surprisingly nimble for someone who is on the taller side of the height spectrum. Peeta on the other hand, is not exactly clumsy, but isn't very swift. Nevertheless, we both make it up to the top. It feels good to be off the ground in a good look out spot. Peeta offers to take the first watch, and I agree. I can feel something is coming tomorrow and I want to have the morning sift, because Peeta probably can't feel it coming the way I can.

"You _have_ to wake me up before dawn though. You _have _to."

"Okay, okay." Peeta nods. He puts on a pair of sunglasses and I look at him questioningly.

"They're night vision glasses." he says. "They're the Careers'. I was wearing them when I found you on the ground. I hoped they wouldn't mind."

I close my eyes and can't help thinking of how much I wish I could just tell Peeta about my abilities. That would make things so much easier. If the whole the world could just know about it, then I could save Peeta! Heck, I could even save myself! No one, even the Capitol, could get to us! Their dangerous machines and explosives can't stand up to my impenetrable force fields... I can't explain how much I long for that freedom to show my whole self, but I know I can't do that. Slowly, I drift off to sleep.

I'm lying in the meadow, lying next to Julietta. The sky is a perfect, cloudless blue, the sun is bright up in the middle of the sky, a cool spring breeze tickles my face and makes the tall grasses sway back and forth. I look over at Julietta. She's smiling, her eyes closed, her breath coming slowly, smoothly, and steadily. A crown of wildflowers is strung and braided through her hair, the flowers painted in beautiful reds and purples and even baby blue. I close my eyes and absorb the nutrients of the sun, feel its warmth on my skin. Gradually, it gets warmer, and warmer, and warmer and all of a sudden it's burning hot. I open my eyes and flames are licking at my arms, scorching my face, Julietta is screaming, the meadow is completely on fire around us.

My eyelids fly open and I sit erect on the tree branch, almost losing my balance and falling off. The sun is already over the horizon. There's no sign of fire, but I know that it's coming.

"Arg..." I groan.

"What? What?" Peeta says confused at my sudden awakening.

"I told you to wake me up before dawn!"

"...but everything was fine?" Peeta seriously seems confused now. I'm frozen and more images of fire burn a path through my mind.

"We have to go." I say, worming my way out of my sleeping bag and throwing it in my pack, then sliding down the tree trunk and landing with an inaudible thump.

"Wait... why?" Peeta struggles his way out of his own sleeping bag, almost falling from the branch but catching himself just in time.

"I don't know... I... thought I heard something. I think somethings coming." I breathe a sigh of relief as he raises his eyebrows and nods. I thought he wasn't going to believe me for a moment.

"Whatever you say, Oh Great Psychic." I laugh and he slides down the tree. I can actually see my family cringing on our overstuffed living room couch, crammed in front of the old dusty tv set.

My stomach is filled with knots as we make our way back towards the lake. I keep the pace as fast as I can, but Peeta hasn't slept all night so he's a bit sluggish and tired. I check behind us periodically and I think Peeta is starting to think I'm psychotic. Gradually, the feeling in my stomach is starting to improve. By then, Peeta is almost panting with exhaustion. Just to be safe, we go a good twenty yards farther, and my stomach is completely fine feeling, so we stop in a covered area at the foot of a tree.

"Sleep." I demand. Peeta doesn't reject this offer. He obediently curls up and immediately succumbs to unconsciousness.

I keep watch from a branch about half way up the tree while Peeta sleeps. About an hour later, I begin to feel the warmth and see a dull orange glow hundreds of yards back the way we came. As it inches closer, I get nervous and clamber back down the tree. As trees burn, they fall, making a loud ruckus. Peeta awakens groggily at the noise.

"What... what's going on?" he asks me because I'm now hovering frantically over him, wondering whether we should move farther away. But I don't have to answer him. A ball of fire whizzes twenty-five yards away from us, making him sit up, quite alert now. "How did you know? How could..." If I'm not more careful, I'm going to blow the whole secret. But I weigh my options. Get myself and the boy I love killed, or blow the secret... it actually seems about equal. Maybe I _should_ let us die. At least that would save my family. But as I look back over at Peeta's frightened features, I know I could never let this boy die, even if it meant blowing our secrets. So as long as we're a team, my main focus will be keeping him alive.

"I don't know... I guess we just got lucky." Maybe the Capitol already knows about us. Is my blood different? Does my body heal differently? Is my family already being taken into custody? No. If they were, they would purposely blow me up right here on the spot.

"Come on!" Peeta is pulling me by my shirt sleeve, which is, by now torn and dirty. I've just been staring at the encroaching licks of flames for half a minute, thinking about my family. "We've got to get out of here!" I'd almost forgotten that Peeta doesn't know we're safe here. Either that or my premonitions are getting less accurate. But I've already risked my family's safety enough by just spontaneously deciding to leave and it would probably make it worse by deciding to take our chances and stay right where the wall of fire ends, so I go with him, and we escape farther into the woods.


	8. The Scheme

Like I expected, the fire stops about twenty yards from where we'd stopped, but we continue running through the forest until the clearing is in sight. A cannon blows and I feel horrible for whoever the fire just burned to a crisp.

"We have to get water." I motion to our water bottles which are bone dry.

"Be careful. The Career's camp out here, so we don't want them to see us." I get low and tiptoe to the very edge of the forest and peek out above a bush. The careers are there in sight but they appear to be sleeping. With those glasses they have, it could be just as well. Sleep during the day, and hunt at night when the tributes can't see you coming.

"I think they're asleep." I whisper. Peeta nods and is about to step into the clearing when I stop him. They're all asleep except for one small boy that I don't recognize as being a Career. Yes. I recognize him. He's from district 3... but what is he doing with the Career's?

"Look. There, sitting by the food." I point to the huge mound of food and packs and weapons all covered by a large fishing net. "It's that boy from district 3." Peeta squints over at the pile.

"Oh ya. Eldred. They were talking about that when I was still with the Careers... they wanted him to rig the food with explosives or something."

"Do you think he did it?" Peeta shrugs.

"Maybe. We probably shouldn't go find out." I nod. Getting blown up isn't on my to do list. Anyways, I can tell he did or at least, is in the process of doing it, seeing that if I even imagine walking up there, I always end up exploding.

"This doesn't solve our water problem though." I add, holding up my empty bottle. My throat is already starting to burn and it's only been a couple hours since our water supply ran out. "We need to get to the lake soon or we're going to get dehydrated." Just then, the boy looked over at where we were concealed in the trees. "But maybe we should get out of here..." I suggest. Peeta continues to look out at the lake, determined on getting the water. I rub my forehead, trying to think of a strategy.

"Maina!" Peeta whispers urgently. "I think he fell asleep!" When I glance up, sure enough, he's leaned back against the cornucopia, eyes shut, mouth wide open. "Now's are chance!" he whispers again. I feel kind of unsure but go with it. Slowly, we creep out of the forest and onto the sandy shores of the beach. Everything is quiet and peaceful, but we're very aware of the sleeping Careers. Luckily, the sand makes even Peeta's footfalls silent.

We reach the lapping waves and I kneel down with the water bottles and fill them up as quietly as I can. I decide to add the iodine later because I'm feeling even more unsure about this as time goes on. I'm about to screw the cap onto the last bottle when an image flickers across my vision. It's Peeta. But there's a knife in his back. I spin around to see the boy from district 3 tiptoeing silently across the sand, which is muting his footsteps just as it did to our own.

I can hardly keep myself from screaming Peeta's name, but that would wake the Careers. We could run, but they'd catch us. That, or Clove's knives would. We can't fight them, they're stronger, not to mention well rested. I don't know what to do. I consider throwing something at Peeta to get his attention without speaking, but that choice results in the Eldred screaming for them to wake up. Then I remember. I haven't done it often, but it's a possibility. At home, sometimes I would practice running the current of my forcefields through objects, so I'd put my hands on the kitchen table and make a ball roll off it. But this sand is diffuse and I'm unsure if it will work, but it's my only chance. It's been just a second since I noticed the approaching boy and I estimate I have about ten seconds before the boy plunges the knife into Peeta's back. _Come on Peeta! Turn around!_ I plead, but Peeta's eyes are trained on the forest and he doesn't move. Here goes nothing.

I dig my hands into the sand and send out a force field. Luckily the energy is moving so quickly through the ground that it doesn't look like it's even trembling. The ground beneath my hands shakes, but it doesn't affect the boy, Eldred, who's now just six seconds from Peeta's back. I decide to try once more before shouting for Peeta to run. I take a deep breath and exhale sharply, throwing all of my strength and power into the ground. If I was standing instead of crouching, I would definitely fall over. The force I send out is so powerful that boy flies up into the air a couple feet and lands on his back. I dash over to him. Luckily, he appears to be knocked out so he didn't scream.

"Peeta!" I hiss. He turns quickly, surprised to find me crouching by the lifeless looking body of Eldred.

"What? How did he get here?" he whispers. The knife is still in the boy's hand and Peeta spots it quickly.

"It was a scheme. He was pretending to sleep. He saw us. He was planning on plunging this in your back!" I pry the knife from his hand and fling it across the sand.

"How did he fall? Why didn't you tell me!" he sounds frantic now, his voice rising a bit. I put my finger to my lips.

"If I'd screamed, the Career's would've woken up... and I don't really know what happened. He just kind of... tripped. It was very dramatic looking. I don't get why he didn't wake up the others in the first place. Maybe he wanted to surprise them with a kill." I whisper.

"Let's just finish him off." he grumbles and I nod in agreement. I get his feet and Peeta gets his arms. We carry him to the lake and drop him into the water, trying not to make any splash sounds, and then place a heavy rock on top of him so that he'd be sure to stay down. The Capitol won't really approve of this method of killing him. They like when there's blood. But they'll have to put up with it. That's what they get. I feel a little bad about killing him, but he deserved it. He tried to kill Peeta, and if I can do anything about it, Peeta isn't going to die in these games. Not now, not ever.


	9. Separation

We hastily grab our water bottles and run off into the woods. A few minutes later, a cannon fires, and I know Eldred's dead. I'm so relieved that we weren't discovered that I'm shaking. What I really want is to go all the way to the outward edges of the forest, but Peeta is so tired that he can't go more than four miles into the woods. At least the Careers never knew we were at their not-so-hidden hide out. When we establish camp, I hear a loud roaring groan that could have only come from Cato. The Career's must've woken up and found Eldred gone. Maybe they even found his body, all soggy at the bottom of the lake. There's also a loud explosion followed by a cannon shot.

"...what was that?" I ask. Peeta shrugs.

"One more down, I guess." he says. Then I remember the supply pile rigged with explosives. Someone must have triggered them. I vaguely wonder if it's a Career or someone else.

The hunting in this part of the forest is good. I manage to shoot down a rabbit and some strange bird-like thing, so we have quite the feast for dinner. While Peeta makes a fire, I search nearby bushes for berries. I come across a bunch a of familiar looking, round, purple berries. I consider trying them and see flashes of only me eating berries, not side affects. They might be a little squishy, but that doesn't really matter. Peeta plucks and cooks up the bird while I skin the rabbit and save it for tomorrow.

We eat our bird, which tastes good and hearty, as well as the berries, which are, as I guessed, a little squishy, and watch the anthem come on. I see Cato, the Career, first. He must've been the one to trigger the bombs around his supplies. I always knew he wasn't that intelligent. The only way he survived until now was from raw strength. Then there was Eldred from district 3 who we drowned today, and a girl from district 8, who must've been the one that died in the fire this morning. Poor girl. I've always hated heat. Three deaths. That should keep the game makers at bay for a while.

I can't help but dread that the pool of tributes is winding down. Most would think of this as a good thing, but I know better. That means there's going to be a real fight soon. Something you have to attend, because they don't let victors just sit on the sidelines while everyone else kills themselves, then say "Congratulations, Victor, for not doing anything! Horray!"

But mostly, I fear splitting up. I know that Peeta won't betray our alliance and kill me in my sleep, but I'm not sure what he'll do when it comes down to just us. I'll kill myself. I already know that, but I can't tell him beforehand or he'll feel guilty, and the game makers will make sure we both die before it even comes to it. Sure, my suicide to save Peeta will make the Capitol mad, but it will be dramatic enough for them. "Poor little hopelessly in love girl from district 12. If only they could be together." the viewers would say. But at least then Peeta could go home and be happy and marry Katniss, or whoever, and have a family, and never have to worry about hunger.

I take the first watch naturally, because Peeta has only slept one hour in two days. I let him sleep until past dawn because I'm not too tired and he needs the sleep. I wonder how Tresh is doing. That first night, he was injured and I'd stolen his pack. Was he in good condition? Neck wounds are commonly fatal because you have such important arteries there, but he's so strong he's probably recovered by now. How else could he have survived so long? I try to remember who's still left. Well there's Peeta and myself, Thresh, and only two Careers- both female. Then there's someone else too, because I'm pretty sure only eighteen people have died. The male tribute from district 6 maybe. Peeta yawns and I'm shaken from my stupor.

"You could've woken me up you know." he says. "I didn't have to sleep the whole night." he yawns again.

"Yes you did. You let me sleep yesterday and ended up with only an hour of shuteye. You deserved it. Plus I wasn't that tired."

"Yes, you can tell by the circles under your eyes." He laughs and I smile in return.

"Wake my up if there's any trouble." With a yawn, I unzip my sleeping bag, because it's starting to get a bit warm, and fall into a deep, dreamless sleep.

When I awake, the sun is in the middle of the sky and my stomach's rumbling. I cook up the rabbit and we each eat a leg, then wrap up the rest.

"Anything exciting happen while I was asleep?" I joke.

"Not really," he replies. "but there was another death." I'm serious now.

"Do you know what happened?" I'm concerned that the remaining Careers are at large again, after being quite sedentary most of the games.

"No. It was completely silent, then suddenly a cannon fired. No sign of a struggle."

"Peeta..." I almost whisper. He looks up, an open expression on his face. "Besides us, there are only three people left... I just..."

"We need to split up don't we." I can only nod.

"I wish we didn't have to, but we can't know how fast this will be over. I wouldn't want this to end..."

"I know." he says softly. "Good luck."

"You too. You can go all the way. I know you can." I'm speaking so quietly it's almost inaudible. And as if it's almost automatic, we walk into each other's arms and hug for a long while. His eyes are closed and he's breathing very steadily, trying to be strong and having almost as much difficulty as I am. "May the odds be ever in your favor." I whisper in his ear, then kiss his cheek and disappear.


	10. Alone

**Sorry. This chapter isn't too exciting...**

I'm gone before Peeta even opens his eyes. I feel a little bad about abandoning him, but it was for this best. If what he said at the interview was true, about him really loving me like part of the family, I wouldn't want him to be the one that kills me.

I trek through the forest, not exactly sure where I'm going, just trying to go somewhere. I have my pack with all of my things and my bow and arrows, so it should be easy to find food on my own. My stomach starts to grumble, but I left the rest of the rabbit, berries, roots and my dried fruit with Peeta as well as the knife that Eldred used in his attempt at killing him. He isn't a very good hunter so I'm concerned that without me or the Career's food supply, he'll go hungry. The sky has just began to turn orange when I stumble upon the old stream Peeta and I had been staying at before the fire. I'd expected the land around it to be burnt and dead, like a huge scar in the earth, but there is no sign of flames. It's like the forest has somehow re-grown itself.

I manage to spear a couple small fish and roast them over a fire for dinner. The sun sets and the anthem plays, lighting up the sky as I munch on my fish. The person who died this morning was Thresh. I begin to wonder how he'd died. He seemed so strong, I doubt anybody left in the arena, even the two Careers combined, could bring him down. My senses tell me that he must've died on his own accord, starved, I don't know. Maybe he went crazy. I put out my fire and make my way up a nearby tree. I have trouble falling asleep without Peeta there by my side. I also feel like it's getting colder at night and warmer during the day. I don't recall it being this cold my first night in the fields. I snuggle farther down in my sleeping bag then use my belt to strap myself to the branch so that I can curl up and not fall off. Eventually, I fall into unconsciousness.

I'm standing at the edge of a great precipice, considering whether to jump. Below me is water, stretching out and then disappearing into a misty fog. I turn away from the ledge, but all that's behind me is the same misty fog that is out over the water. Suddenly, I'm feeling afraid and alone. I run into the fog, trying to get away, but when I turn back around, the cliff is always there in sight. I collapse on the rocky ground and weep. A moment later, Julietta appears in the fog. She's weeping too. I run to her and try to comfort her, but she can't hear me. She falls to her knees at the edge of the cliff. "Maina!" she cries. "I'm here, I'm here!" I try too soothe her, but she doesn't look up. I reach down to rub her back but my arm is see-through and goes right through her. Swiftly, she stands and flings herself off the cliff. "Julietta!" I wail, but I can hardly even hear myself. I leap off the cliff after her and hit the water hard. I'm sinking and can't see anything. I shoot out my arms and envelop myself in a forcefield, but I'm still blind, and Julietta is nowhere in sight.

My eyes flick open and I'm in reality. There's no sign that I created any sort of forcefield which is good, but I am hanging upside down on my tree branch, held up only by my belt. It's light out and I assume that it's about eight o'clock. After hauling myself back upright, I clamber down the tree. When I'm refilling my water bottle, I see my reflection in the stream and am slightly repulsed. I have a couple cuts from tree branches when I was fleeing from threats, animal or not alike, as well as bruises from the falling rocks during the tornado, and lastly, the horrific looking welts from the trackjacker stings, not to mention dirt that coats my face and hair from all the times I fell, headfirst, into the dirt. My arms and legs could also use a good scrubbing. I decide that now is as good a time as any to wash up.

I wash my shirt and pants first, throwing aside my jacket because it's made of nylon or something along those lines, so it's not horrifically dirty. After I set my clothes out to dry, I ease into the stream in my underclothes because I don't really feel like bathing nude in front of the entire nation. The water feels good against my skin, especially because as the sun climbs up in the sky, it's getting quite hot. Once I've scrubbed every inch of dirt from my body using a smooth stone, I feel pink and slightly raw. I manage to untangle my long braid of hair and wash it out as well, then re-braid it down my back. By the time I'm done, I feel like a new person. I lay on top of a wide, smooth rock and let the sun dry my underclothes. It's past noon by the time I'm redressed. I clean the dirt off my boots and get the mud un-caked from the bottoms as well, then take the time to lace them up properly.

When I'm fully clothed again, I take out my medical kit and disinfect all of my cuts, though most of them are already part way healed. On one particularly bag cut, I put a sticky bandage over it and call it a day. I still hadn't found anything to do about my stings, though they hurt like no tomorrow.

I shoot another bird-like thing for lunch. I'm beginning to really like them. They're slow and easy pickings, yet delicious. I munch on one of the legs and consider how my archery skills have improved ever since I got into the arena. Maybe, if I ever do return home, I can go into the woods with Katniss and collect food for the hungry people in the district. I'll be plenty wealthy and won't need any food for myself. I mull over different idea as I finish and wrap up the rest of the bird for another time.

I go around looking for more berries and roots and come across some little green leaves. When I lay my eyes on them, I see flicks of myself using them to heal my stings. I tentatively pluck a few, not quite sure what to do with them. I get the feeling I'm supposed to put them in my mouth which to me, sounds really gross, but I comply and chew them up. They taste kind of funny and I spit them out then press them to the sting on my calf. It's almost magical the way the pain seems to ooze out of the welt. I immediately chew more leaves and put them on my collar bone. Ah! It feels so fantastic! I continue gathering roots and berries until the sun is setting again.

I make a meal out of the rest of the bird and am, for the first time since I arrived in the arena, completely full. I sip on water while I wait for the anthem to play. There were no deaths today, a nice change. I'm surprised to hear a fanfare of trumpets as I'm about to settle in for the night.

"_Good evening remaining Hunger Games tributes!" _the voice of Claudius Templesmith booms all over the arena. "_I would like to invite you all to a feast!"_ I'm really not hungry at all but I listen to what he's saying. "_But wait a minute. Some of you may already be declining my invitation." _ Yep, that's me. _"But this is no ordinary feast. Each of you needs something desperately. Each of you will find that something in a backpack-marked pink for female tributes, and blue male tributes, as well as with your district number- at the Cornucopia at dawn. Think hard about refusing to show up. For some of you, this will be your last chance."_


	11. The Feast

At first I'm uncertain. Should I even attend? I don't really need anything desperately, unless the game makers are psychics and know I _will _need something in the future. Really, what I need is an invitation that says, "Congratulations! You can use your magic powers in this arena FREE of charge!" This is basically just an open invitation to die. But maybe Peeta needs something desperately. I have to go. I can protect him. I decide to relax for an hour before I leave so that I'll be rejuvenated and ready to go. I'm glad that I slept pretty long last night or I might not be up for the hours of trekking back to the cornucopia in the middle of the night.

I wait until the moon is a little more than at its peak before I leave. I'm thankful for the night-vision glasses as I make my way through the dark woods. I arrive at the lake at the perfect time. The morning sun is just starting to turn the eastern sky a soft purplish pink. I scale a tree and don't even bother to remove my pack when I choose a sturdy looking branch. If I'm spotted, I'll have to be on the fly in a matter of seconds.

I am slowly freezing to death as I wait for the sun to finally creep over the horizon and mark dawn, but when it does, nothing happens. Did I get it wrong? Is it dawn tomorrow? Or is it dusk? I'm suddenly mulling over what I did wrong when the ground before the Cornucopia parts and up comes a table with six backpacks on it. There it is, out in the open, but nothing happens. No one runs for it, there's no fighting, just a table covered in backpacks. I find the pink one marked district 12. Unfortunately, there doesn't appear to be a coupon coming out of it that allows me to utilize my full capabilities at will.

I whip out an arrow and pull back the string of my bow and wait. There's a flash of blonde and I see Clove dashing out from the woods, knives in her hands, closely followed by Glimmer who's obviously keeping guard. I could easily shoot them down, but I'm starting to think that everyone left, besides Peeta, doesn't even know I exist, and I could work this to my advantage. Plus, I don't want to be at the top of the Careers hit list for shooting down one of their buddies.

Clove grabs both of their backpacks and retreats back into the woods, but they stay on the fringe, just barely in sight. Oh jeez. They're looking for a fight. An image of Peeta running flashes across my field of vision so I know he's going next. I brace myself because surely someone is going to attack. I'm thankful I came now. Peeta needs my help. I feel bad for abandoning him again because they're something he desperately needs that I'm not there to help with. I briefly consider whether it's a good meal. Hopefully his food storage hasn't run out yet.

But then, there's Peeta, dashing across the clearing for his pack. I see Glimmer emerge from the woods as well. She's holding an array of dangerous looking knives. Just before one is about to fly from her hand, I let go of the bow string and the arrow hits the knife, sending its blade into the ground. But Glimmer is determined. Peeta's at the table now and has his backpack in his hand when Glimmer winds up to throw another knife. I let my second arrow fly. But this time, it doesn't hit the knife, it hit's Glimmer right in her heart. She falls to the ground as blood oozes out. My stomach knots up again for doing this, but again, she tried to kill Peeta. No one is killing Peeta. If they try to, they'll have to get through me. Now he's safe in the confines of the forest, pack and all. Clove is screaming and scouring the trees for me. A couple knives come whizzing by me, but nothing comes dangerously close.

The cannon fires and I hear a bird sing a one note tune. A hovercraft materializes and reaches it's giant metal hand out for Glimmer's body. I can see how Glimmer's parents will react when they find her daughter in the simple wooden box, delivered home. They will wale and cry and scream out my name, because the cameras certainly have shown them what the other tributes couldn't see, that I'm up here hiding in a tree, picking off people that hurt the one I love.

I stay up in the tree because there are still two backpacks on the table. I'm not planning on killing whoever it belongs to, but I do want to see who's it is. I stare down at the two packs. One is mine, fairly large and pink with a number twelve- if the others had seen that, they'd know I was still alive- and a smaller blue one with a number six stitched into it.

I wait for hours, just willing the boy to show up. Maybe he won't. Maybe he's like me and doesn't need it. I'm surprised that Clove didn't snatch up all the rest of our bags and use them for herself. The sun is more than halfway across the sky now and I'm boiling. I take off my jacket and tie it around my waist. My fingers are starting to get sore for holding my arrow back for so long. Anybody else would have left by now, but I have nowhere to go and am kind of wondering what's in my bag, but not willing to go out in the open with district 6 lurking around.

An image flashes into my mind just as I'm about to get down from my hiding spot. The boy is here. And suddenly I can see him. He's slow and is clutching his side. He makes his way across the clearing, and I can see his strategy now. Wait until no one else would bother to stay, and then go. I guess he assumed that I'm not coming, because if I was in good condition, I would've ran for it by now. And if I was injured, there isn't that much I could do about him either.

I feel bad for the boy. Whatever's in his pack must be to help with his wound. I find myself pulling back another arrow, ready to defend him if there's danger, and there is. Someone's throwing knives again, and it's got to be Clove. Peeta wouldn't waste time doing that, plus he's no good with knives.

I shoot down all of the knives before they get close to him. Clove must be wondering what's going on, who this crazy person is that keeps shooting down all everything she throws, but eventually, she stops because she must be out of weapons. The boy is safe now, having grabbed his pack, and is limping away as fast as he can, into the forest right beneath me.

"Thank you, Maina." he pants below me. How does he know who I am? Maybe he took note of my pack. I don't reply because I don't want Clove to know that it's me and who knows if she's listening.

The sun is going down and I eat some of the roots and berries I've collected. I replace my glasses and put on my jacket, then leap down from the trees, landing silently on the balls of my feet. I consider grabbing my pack because now, I have darkness on my side. Plus, I have only one arrow left, so I'll need to collect them. I look to the future and see that Clove has left, probably to find better cover because we've been up all night and even she needs to rest.

As I sneak out into the open, I grumble to myself about how much I wish I could just see into the future and see who wins the games. That would be so much easier. But I can't look all that far ahead unless someone has a strategy that guarantees a win. I can only see things based on people's current decisions.

I collect my arrows and dash to the Cornucopia. My backpack is the only one left now and I swipe it quickly. I'm surprised how heavy it is. What could possibly be inside? I dash back into the trees, exhausted and ready to sleep.


	12. The Storm

**Sorry. It's a shortie.**

I sleep soundly well into the day and it's almost noon when I awake. Like usual, I'm famished, and finish up the roots and berries before searching for some real food. I've been so preoccupied by the continuous rumbling in my stomach that it's not until I'm outside the little cave like shelter that I came upon while I was wandering, half asleep, through the woods last night, that I notice it's raining, and now I'm drenched.

"I shoulda seen this coming." I mumble to myself as I make a litter visor out of my hands in order to shield my face from the rain, but still, the rain is so profuse that I can't see more than a foot in front of me. I stumble my way back to my hiding spot with only my feet to guide me. Inside, I strip myself of my damp clothes and wrap my half naked body inside my sleeping bag. It's so cold with this rain that my teeth are starting to chatter.

After I'm nearly warmed again, I pull on my boots and jacket and stalk back out into the rain. I find a bunch of soggy ferns and sticks and bring them back to my roost. It takes a while, but I manage to fashion some sort of a curtain out of them that keeps the rain out a little better. I have extra wood, but it's much to damp to make a fire, which really stinks because now is one of the only times where I probably could without getting noticed. An idea runs through my head and I pick up a piece of wood and hold it firmly in my grasp. I send my forcefield energy through it and the water hovers a centimeter away from the branch before falling to the ground.

I do this a couple times and manage to get a small fire going. It's not much and doesn't really make a difference temperature wise, but I feel good knowing I've managed to put my extra strengths to good use.

I feel so useless all day, just curled up in my cave with a little fire, not doing anything. Unfortunately, this is mainly how it goes for the next few days. By the second day, I begin to go a bit mentally insane from being trapped in this little room. _Why are the gamemakers doing this?_, I think. _You can't even see outside! There's no action going on out there!_ But I think of the poor boy from district six. Maybe some people need time to heal. When I think of that day again, it strikes me that I haven't even opened my own backpack yet. I'm slightly reluctant and try to wait for a while, but give in. It feels like my birthday as I'm eagerly awaiting to find what's concealed in the pack.

I open the flap and shake out its contents. A heavy, skin colored, metal... jumpsuit- there are no better words to describe it- falls onto my lap. Body armor? I sure didn't expect this. Well this could potentially save me from Clove's deathly knives. I shimmy into it and am surprised that it's actually quite comfortable. It looks like it's made of metal thread, all sewed together. I guess the Capitol couldn't think of anything else to give me.

My stomach grumbles from no food since yesterday morning. I'm just going to safely assume that all of the game is sheltered inside logs and trees and such, so it's pointless to go out looking for them, and as for berries, I'll be so blind in the rain that I'll hardly be able to tell whether it's a berry bush, or a poison ivy plant. I'm about to consider just making some sort of energy field umbrella to waltz around outside under when something hit's the toe of my boot. I'm immediately attentive, my arms automatically finding my bow and stringing it with an arrow... but there's no one there. But then I see it.

It's hard to miss the signature silver parachutes, but I've been so caught up in my own little world lately that it didn't even cross my mind. I'd all but forgotten that you could get sponsored. I guess Capitol viewers liked us after all! I am being rather love-sick-puppyish, going to the Cornucopia just to shoot down knives, and probably moaning his name in my sleep, seeing that he's been the star of almost ever dream I've had since we stopped the alliance. Maybe people think it's endearing. No matter. I check the contents of the basket that's been delivered.

It's all from district 12, naturally. Our district's original blob-like rolls, apples, and, most amazingly, goat cheese. I'm smiling so wide that I must look like a fool on camera right now, but I don't care. I gingerly tear of a piece of bread and slide it along side the little ball of cheese. I place it on my tongue and almost cry. The cheese is distinctly from Prim's goat, Lady. Whenever I see her selling it- either Katniss of Prim- I always make an effort to purchase some. It's exquisitely delicious with subtle hints of dandelion and strawberry. This small gesture of kindness manages to hold me through the last few days of the storm.


	13. The Victor

Finally, the storm is over. I wake up, yawn and stretch, and marvel at the calm, quietness that fills the air. Mockingjays pass melodies back and forth and tree branches sway smoothly in the breeze. I crawl out of my cave and embrace the heavenly feeling of walking around and blood circulation. I head to the stream to refill my water bottle and stop dead. It's bone dry. I bend down and dig my fingers deep into the stream bed- not even a drop of water. Great. Time to relocate.

My first thought would be to try to find a new stream or pond or spring, but I'm not that ignorant. No, they're trying to force us together... at the lake. And so that's what I'll do. I'm not usually that obedient to the Capitol's wishes, but I'm sick of hiding. I just want to end this, and so do the gamemakers. There are four of us left, so this might just be the final straw.

I throw on my armor and then pull my clothes back on over it. Unfortunately, my face isn't covered, but if Clove decides to throw a knife right at my head- well hopefully I'll have good enough reflexes to dodge something that flies towards my eyes. I put together my things, carefully bundling up all the goodies from district twelve, and throw my pack onto my back then softly tread my way through the forest.

On my way, I shoot down a squirrel and eat it raw. I hate the way raw food slides down your throat and sits unsettlingly in your stomach. I'd make a fire but I need to get to the Cornucopia soon because who knows what's lurking out here in order to add some extra incentive to come join the party that's definitely being organized down by the lake. At least I'll have some extra strength for this final bloodbath. A shiver runs down my back as I realize this will probably be my last meal, not just in the arena, but ever. I will die. Today. Combined with my new revelation and the unpleasant feeling of uncooked food in my stomach, I vomit everything I've eaten today into a cluster of ferns to my left. Well there goes my attempt at some strength. I can just imagine the faces of Capitol residents when they come to the arena for their vacations. _"And this is where Maina Keeper threw up."_ the tour guide will say as the tourists gasp and snap photos of the scene. I grab a roll from my pack and nibble on that as I go instead.

After a while, I can see a faint lightening in the forest. Sunlight trickles through the outer edges where the tree coverage becomes scanty. I scale a tree to the very top and crouch precariously on the fragile upper branches. There appears to be no one here, though I'm quite sure the other three are lurking nearby. The only one I'm really worried about is Clove. She's unforgiving and I'm probably her main target because I killed her little friend. Peeta and the unknown kid from district six are less of a threat. I don't really think Peeta _wants_ to, and would willingly, kill me, though I could be wrong. And the injured boy from six, I saved his life. Hopefully that will mean something to him.

Nevertheless, I need water if I'm going to survive the next few days. My water bottle thumps eerily at my side from where I clipped it to my belt loop as I cautiously make my way towards the clearing. I miss the usually sloshing sound it makes when I walk. It feels like years since I've been out in this open plain that stretches to the Cornucopia, though I was only here a few days ago. Then a few days before that, I'd drowned that boy with Peeta, and then before that when I'd retrieved the bow and arrows that have served me so well here. I can feel tensions throughout the nation as I dangerously step out into the open. The mound of Career supplies is charred and destroyed from the explosives that Cato set off, but I don't have any idea if there are still a few remaining that are active, so I carefully maneuver around it.

I feel my parents sit on the edges of their seats as I crouch down and fill my water bottle. Surely at least some people are poising to kill me now, and this silence is so menacing that I want to scream. Apparently, I'm not the only one with this impulse. A shrill cry echos out through the open air and my muscles are frozen. The boy from district six claws his way out of the woods, his injuries obviously healed. I assume that he's being pursued by Clove, or, I shiver again, Peeta, but I'm surprised at what I find. Wolves. Mutant... wolves. He's running full speed, but they're fast, and overcome him. One leaps onto his back and he collapses on the ground. The beast rips off his clothes and I catch a glimpse of a white bandage wrapped around his torso. I want to help him, but there's nothing I can do. The wolf tears off the bandage to reveal a deep, red slice in the boy's side before plunging his teeth directly into his injured spot. If I hadn't thrown up my squirrel before, I would've done it now. The cannon fires immediately and more wolves are making their way out of the the forest, dashing... right at me. And then I'm running. I don't know where, just running. I've grabbed my water and am halfway to the woods when Peeta scampers out from where I was headed, screaming as he's chased by an enormous, dark mutt. He's working towards the Cornucopia. Why, I don't know, but I automatically follow him. He arches around to the side and I can see his intentions. Climb the giant horn. Hopefully those mutants can't climb. I get there first and scale the giant, metal structure. The surface scalds my palms in the hot sun, but I keep climbing, my hands and feet quickly finding the ridges and propelling myself up.

When Peeta reaches it, he clambers up, but in his haste, he slips. I catch his hand in a spilt second and haul his body up. He's panting and scared and I throw my arms around his trembling body to comfort him. He might kill me, now would be an easy time, but even if he does, I'll still love him. I'd rather die knowing that I'd tried my best to save him and comfort him in these wretched times than live by shoving him off to his death. I know I could live if I wanted to, I could just sit under a forcefield while they throw in everything they've got. But it's not important for me to live. Nobody needs me.

"What are those things..." he breathes as he attempts to catch his breath.

"Wolves." I say, "Mutant wolves." he nods as if this is a very common and logical proclamation. The dark wolf chasing him stands on his hind legs and paws at the Cornucopia just as Clove flees from the trees. Yep. They're definitely mutant. I almost feel like Peeta and I are a team again, even though we should be bigger enemies than ever. Simultaneously, we both wield our weapons, as if to show Clove that she's not welcome here. My arrow and one of his knives get to her just as the small, mocha colored wolf pounces onto her back. I hardly hear the cannon fire, because just as Clove is dying, the huge black wolf leaps up onto the back side of the Cornucopia. And the others are quickly following.

We're poised atop the mouth of the horn, faced with twenty wolves of varying sizes and colors. This is it. I have to surrender myself to them. Peeta must live. I'm about to leap forward into the crowd when I catch the glimpse of the dark wolf's eyes. Cato. They're distinctly similar to Cato's eyes. Huge, strong... it is Cato! All of them... they're all of the dead tributes!.. well except Clove and the boy from six. Yes, there's Rue, the small brown one, and the bright orange one is the tribute I stunned with my forcefield in my sleep!

"Peeta..." I whisper as they slowly inch forwards, menacing grins on their faces, snarling like they're ready for a brawl. "Peeta, they're-" but I'm cut off. Cato pounces forward and flings Peeta off the horn.

"Peeta!" I scream, throwing myself off the edge. I land on my feet and am poised to attack, but the wolf is on top of peeta, slowly scraping its claws down his chest, tearing the fabric of his shirt and slicing his skin, raising four thin red lines. "Peeta!" I'm frantic now as I shove through the pack that is, for whatever reason, ignoring me and closing in on Peeta.

I open fire and manage to badly injure three mutts and leave a couple whimpering off into the woods. I can hear Peeta moaning as Cato drags him into the mouth of the Cornucopia. No. This cannot happen. Peeta must win! The other dogs are backing off now, into the forest, but Cato remains, looming over Peeta. I quickly retrieve my last three arrows and string them. This last one will not go easily. For one last time, I pray for Katniss's accuracy and bravery. I shoot one into the back of his neck, one in his chest, and lastly, one into his skull. He falls lifelessly to the ground, leaving Peeta horribly wounded. District twelve will have a winner this year. And it's not going to be me.

"Peeta!" I shout again and run to him. I kneel by his side and stroke his face. "Peeta, Peeta, Peeta... oh no, this is not good!"

"I'm going to die Maina... there's nothing you can do about it." His voice is so hoarse that I can hardly understand him.

"No, no you have to win!" I can't believe he has accepted death so easily! "I won't let you die!" I'm crying now, my tears falling on his face. "I love you." I grasp his hand in mine. He smiles slightly, his pale skin covered in cuts and bruises. His fingers are still clenched around one of the knives he'd held up against Clove. I have an idea. It's stupid. It's rash. But it's my only choice if I want Peeta to live. I lower my face down to his and gently kiss his forehead before I bring his armed hand up to my chest. "Congratulations, Peeta," I whisper.

"No Maina..." he groans, but he's far too weak to do anything about it. I close my eyes and extend my arms out away from my body and prepare myself to plunge it forwards, into my chest. "No..." he whimpers. I am about to thrust the weapon forward when a cannon fires. My eyes flash open and the knife falls from my hands.

"Peeta!" I wail. "No!" I collapse over his body which has now gone cold. His eyes are closed, and he would look at peace if it wasn't for the blood and dirt smeared over his body. The horrible ripping sound begins just like on reaping day when the voice of Claudius Templesmith comes over the loud speakers.

"Ladies and gentleman, I am pleased to present the victor of the seventy-fourth Hunger Games, Maina Keeper!.." it keeps on, but I'm moaning over Peeta's body. No! This cannot be happening! Even with me here to protect him, he still dies.

The ripping sound has increased and I'm sobbing. No. He must live. He can't die. He _has _to survive... but how, it's too late... or not. I place my hands firmly on his chest, right over his heart. It might not work, I've never done it on a person before, but I have to try. I inhale deeply. Over the loudspeakers, crowds in the Capitol scream for me, chant my name. In a rush of power, a shiver runs across my skin, sending a wave of goosebumps from my chest to my fingers and toes. I feel the energy pass through my palms and run a similar shiver through Peeta's body. I wait a moment. A hovercraft materializes to take me to my new life and awaiting crowds. Then the most incredible thing happens. Peeta blinks and gives a cough.

"Hey Maina."


	14. Rejuvenation

I breathe out the sweetest sigh of relief possible. He's alive. I did it. He's alive.

"Common'," I half laugh, half cry, "before you leave me again." I pull him up.

"Sorry about that..." we make our to the hovercraft that's still waiting there for me. "what happened?"

"...I don't really know... the cannon fired... but the system must have malfunctioned, because obviously, you're not dead." No, he wasn't dead, but if we didn't get him to the professional doctors of the Capitol within a matter a minutes, he might be again. I have no idea what will happen now. Surely the Capitol won't be pleased that Peeta is alive, that their system has failed, but what can the do, they've already announced the games over, with me as victor. The viewers have seen that Peeta is alive. Wow... this could be problematic.

I hoist Peeta up with my arm around his waist, we both step up onto the rung of the ladder and are frozen by an electric current. When we are inside the hovercraft and the current stops, he slumps over into my arms. Unfortunately, he's not the only one that's weak, and I nearly topple over myself. Doctors in sterile, white uniforms swarm around him and carry his body away as the life drains out of him. Judging by the lack of blood and surely infected wounds inflicted by the many pests in the arena, I'd guess he only has a few minutes left, a half an hour tops.

"Peeta..." his name hardly makes it out of my mouth. I don't particularly like the Capitol, but if it can save Peeta, it's my best friend. I'm towed away into a room right next to his operating room, nothing but a clear glass wall divides us. Just a flimsy glass wall. I have never wanted to be with Peeta more than right now. I sit criss-cross applesauce on the floor, facing the glass wall. My forehead is pressed against its cool glass surface, my eyes trained on Peeta, or more like approximately where Peeta is, seeing that he's completely swathed in Capitol surgeons. I can hear a group of Hunger Games officials chatting in the back corner of the room.

"What do you think they'll do?" one man says, "You think they'll kill them?" another says. "Not the girl... at least she won." "But the Prez won't be too pleased with two winners..." whispers a female voice. "And the whole world already knows _he_ survived." I plug my ears because I do not want to listen to it. I miss my home and friends and family and Peeta and I just want things to go back to normal. No killing. No revenge. Just normal, sad, desperate district twelve.

A Capitol attendant brings me a glass of water and I sip it daintily as I watch Peeta as the doctors rush around him. The moisture on the crystal glass wipes the dirt from my hands and reveals the array of blisters and scraps covering my palms. I lean back and can see my face in the reflection of the wall. I look like an animal... filthy and wild with empty, unseeing eyes and a hopeless expression. My face reflects the past weeks as easily as the glass reflects my image, filthy, ravenous, hopeless, empty.

I am still sitting here, the same position, motionless, when the hovercraft lands in the Capitol. Only my eyes move as they carry Peeta away to some other place where I will probably never see him again. Where they'll kill him. This is my fault. I should have just killed myself. Why am I so weak? I shouldn't be the victor.

Someone puts there hand on my shoulder but I do not turn, although now the operating room is empty and dim. The person pulls at my arm and my hand comes to swat them away just as a needle is jabbed into my back.

I am awake but I do not open my eyes. I can tell from the faint glow of my eyelids that there is light, but I don't want to see where I am unless it's back home. I squint tentatively just to see nothing but a blank wall in front of me. I'm slightly propped up in a white hospital bed in a windowless, doorless, room with blank walls. Ugh I don't want to be here. I close my eyes and escape to unconsciousness.

When I resurface for the second time, my situation is unchanged. I'm about to sleep again but an invisible to door opens from somewhere along the wall. I was hoping it to be Peeta, but no, it's an Avox that walks in, carrying a small silver tray. She sets it on my lap and reveals its contents: a clear soup, some applesauce, and a glass of water. I'm not hungry, but I eat anyways, gently sipping broth and stirring the applesauce around with my spoon. When I've eaten all I can, I lay back and feel a cool liquid dripping through the tubes in my arm and I go under again. When I wake again, it's around the same ordeal. The only things that change are my wounds. Though I wasn't ever mortally injured in the arena, I did receive minor cuts and scars which disappear more and more each time I wake up. The time where it appears that all of my scars have disappeared is the only time I can move about. _Finally_ I will be able to get out of here.

I swing my feet over the side of my bed, thankful to be free of the tubes connecting me to a cart of liquids, and stand quickly. I'm a little light headed but am glad to be upright. At the foot of my bed lies the outfit that we wore in the arena. I'd rather not wear it, seeing that I feel like I've just gotten a small taste of freedom again, but I'd rather not go outside stark naked as I am now.

My skin feels so fragile and perfect as I dress. My hair flows smoothly down my back in a silken waterfall of honey brown. I stand at the door where the Avoxes had come through to give me my meals and wait. When I run my fingers along the wall, it feels seamless and smooth, but I startle when it slides open without a sound. It reveals nothing but a long, doorless, windowless hallway with a large waiting area at the end. A waiting room! I dash down the hall and am greeted by Effie, Cinna, and Haymitch, who are all giving me congratulations and praise. I don't deserve it.

"Is Peeta alright?" I expect my voice to be hoarse from not speaking for so long, but it's clear as day.

"Yes, he's fine. They got his heart moving again." Haymitch replies.

"...what happened? I thought he'd died out there!" I play dumb a little. I don't know what speculations they're having about me at this very moment in President Snow's office.

"There must have been a mistake. Whatever it was, it doesn't matter, because they're letting you both be victors." Both victors? This is amazing! This is incredible! Two victors! I'm dumbfounded. Two victors. How can this be? Surely the Capitol doesn't want it this way, but they also don't want a bunch of horrified residents on there hands.

"Well everyone saw that Peeta's alive so there aren't too many other options. The Games are over." Cinna attempts to console my flabbergasted expression. Two victors. Wow. Everything might just turn out ok.

"What are you all chatting about? Come on, come on Maina, you must go with Cinna and get ready." Effie blabs. I follow my posse down a series of hallways to the elevators and wait as we surface. It's unsettling to think of how far down underground we are while we pass floor after floor. After what seems like an eternity, we arrive at the main lobby of the Training Center. The windows are darkened and guards mill around so surely outside, there are many Hunger Games addicts that want nothing more than to give me a hug or get a picture taken. When we get to the tribute elevator, I can't help but think of all the tributes before me that have used it. All the tributes that are no longer alive. How can victors take this?

The weight of my world is crashing down on me as my prep team works. I'm not really there, not mentally at least. My head is still in the arena. And it will never come out. I can never escape now. I will always be haunted by memories and nightmares. Horrific delusions of trackerjacker stings. The menacing eyes of Cato in a monstrous wolf's head. I feel like I'm going to faint but Cinna's finally there.

"Whoa there Miss Maina." Cinna says as I almost teeter over into his arms. I'm standing naked in front of a mirror, about to pass out. I'd hardly noticed until now. "Don't want you having a black eye for your big day." I laugh sheepishly. Cinna has always been a friend to me. He's always routed me on. "This is your final debut as a tribute. It's your grand finale. When you return, you will be a mentor. We want you to be remembered." He says quietly.

"Are we still going with the fire theme?" I ask. I never felt like I should be the one to be the girl on fire. Katniss is better suited for that role. She has more soul and heart, she knows more pain and would want this more. She's more fiery, she's a survivor. She's more of a winner.

"Of course. And what's a finale without..." he pauses and I raise my arms up so he can slip the garment over my head. "...fireworks." he finishes. I open my eyes and stare in awe. The floor-length dress is completely covered in gems of all different colors. It glitters this way and that whenever I move. It really looks like a fireworks display. I really look like the grand finale.

"Cinna..." I'm nearly whispering. "It's spectacular." I'm not really one for glitz and glitter, but this is something else.

"I thought you might like it."

"Peeta." I say to myself. "He's coming too, isn't he?" I don't want to go into this final wrap-up of the games by myself, especially not in my current state of mind.

"Of course. You are both victors, right?"

"Right." my voice is timid. How much does the Capitol know? Do they know it was me who outsmarted their games, who saved Peeta from his impending demise? No, how could they? I suppose they did fix me up after the games, right? Who knows what blood-work reveals about my extra traits? Or maybe... they took them away. Maybe I'm just normal now. I can't decide whether this is good or bad. I guess it means that I'm no longer at risk of putting my family in danger. It also means that I have no way to defend myself if necessary. I've learned a little in the means of self defense in the last couple weeks, but I'm nothing without my sixth sense. I'm suddenly anxious as we're making our way down the hall and into the elevator. I want to shoot my hands out just to make sure I can still manipulate energy, but that would not be a good plan, especially with the Capitol probably suspicious of me. I decide my best bet is to look to the future.

My brain hasn't been tampered with, because I can see in a short while, snippets of huge crowds and Caesar Flickerman, loud cheering and chanting and... Peeta. He's not dead, like they all have been saying. I'm angry at those Games officials who said they'd kill him. I'll see him, as long as no one makes a snap decision to do something rash.

We take the elevator down to the floor where we had trained those few days before the games began. It's customary for the victor, or in this case, victors and their posse to rise from the floor below the stage during the ceremony. I just hope I'll have Peeta's hand to hold. I wonder how things will be between us when we return home. Probably the same. Maybe a little more distant.

I'm stationed on a newly installed circular plate much like the one I used when I was launched into the arena. In the room, it's dark and unsettling and smells like paint and sawdust . There's a makeshift wall to my right and I can only assume that Peeta is behind it. It takes all of my willpower not to call out his name while we wait in the gloom. Suddenly, I can see a silhouette strolling towards me through the darkness. I almost don't recognize Haymitch in his black suit and red bow-tie.

"Good luck Sweetheart." he attempts to make his voice as soothing as he can. I must look as nervous as I feel because his face looks sympathetic. "It's ok. You'll do fine." He opens his arms for a hug. I'm surprised that he even knows what a hug is. It's not that Haymitch is mean, but he doesn't seem too sensitive. I move towards him and wrap my arms around his neck.

"Are they angry?" I whisper in his ear. I don't need to explain. He knows what I mean.

"What do you think? But it's not your fault. You didn't make them mess up." This doesn't console me whatsoever. If they knew it was me, I would be obliterated in moments.

"What if I did?" I whimper.

"Well then don't say anything stupid." _Good advice, Haymitch. Thank you._ I think. We let go and he gives me a real smile. "It'll be fine. You know what you're doing." And with that, he walks off to his place on the stage. I can hear the crowds outside roaring. I know that our prep teams, Effie and Cinna have gone up, because now Haymitch disappears into the ceiling. This is it.

The metal disk gives a hiss and begins to raise me up slowly. This is it.


	15. Grand Finale

The lights are blinding. I can't see much until my eyes adjust from the dank basement's lighting to bright, glaring stage spotlights. I smile as brightly as I can but I probably just look pained. My eyes adjust and there's Peeta, looking so much cleaner and more...alive then the other day, standing just ten yards away. When we make eye contact, we run into each other's arms.

"Peeta I'm so glad you're ok!" I'm practically yelling in his ear, but the crowd and the anthem combined are so loud that I can hardly hear myself speaking.

"You look spectacular." He says back. I don't know if he'd thought I was complimenting his look- though he does look quite dashing in his black tuxedo with a glittering bow tie- and being courteous back, or if he really thinks that. Naturally, we face the crowd hand-in-hand, united as a family, just as we have been all along.

The usual victor's throne has been replaced by an extravagant, red and gold, velvet sofa, which we head over to and are greeted by Caesar Flickerman. I see the same flicks of my last vision in reality now as he smiles and beckons us over.

We sit down and it's kind of cozy on the chair, but I don't mind as long as Peeta doesn't. It feels so good to be next to him, like part of my heart has finally been patched up. If this is as far as we will ever be in terms of a relationship, that's fine. I just want whatever he wants. Friendship is almost as good as anything.

Caesar makes a couple jokes and then the nation's seal appears on an enormous television screen. I don't really want to see twenty-two of my fellow tributes die right in front of me, and I'm not particularly looking forward to the gut-wrenching feelings that will surely emerge within the next three hours, but it's not like I have much of a choice.

The whole thing is torturous to watch. I don't know what's the worst about it; watching just shy of two dozen teenagers die, or the fact that you have to pretend to be pleased. Victors don't cry, they shout and cheer like the terrible beast-like killing machines that they are. My only wish is to leave, or at least to be able to let a few tears escape, but victors are supposed to be stone-hard killers, not cry-babies.

So I sit motionless as the film starts and stay that whole time in order to avoid being hysterical. No emotion crosses my face as people get slaughtered and are tortured with hunger or cold or pain.

After two hours, my muscles are itching to move. I let out a sigh of relief as we come upon the final battle; not because I want to watch it, but because that means this is almost over. It turns out that I had made the right move by filling my water bottle, because even though Clove had been poising to kill me, Taz, that turned out to be the name of the injured boy from district six, had screamed at the perfect time, and distracted her enough for me to get away. After the wolf pushed and dragged Peeta into the horn, I appear to be very heroic, though I hadn't felt that way. The arrows pierce him in just the right places, and I kneel pleading next to Peeta, begging him to stay with me. The film maneuvers around me trying to kill myself by focusing in on Peeta's eyes as they close. The cannon goes off and I'm weeping when they announce me victor. I glance at Peeta's face as he's watching the screen and he looks back at me.

"I really did die, didn't I." he asks, because this is all new to him, he had no idea what had happened while he went under. I just shake my head, not in a "no way!" kind of fashion, but in a "I don't really know" way, because I'm sure if I speak, I will not be able to recompose my careful facade of toughness. The screen is now showing our current conversation because all I'm doing in the Games is bawling. You can't hear any words, but you see me shaking my head. I don't even look like myself on the screen. I hardly ever where my hair down, and now it's cascading over my shoulders in a waterfall of ringlets. There's a swirl of color on my lids, and little gemstones dotting the corners of my eyes, which I'm not used to, seeing that hardly anyone wears makeup in district twelve. I wish I could just be wearing my simple, worn, too short dress that I'd been clad in the morning of the reaping, not this fancy getup. I just want this to be over. I hate being the Capitol's dress-up doll, their puppet, hiding who I am so that they won't think I'm trying to defy them. My whole being itself practically screams defiance, because to President Snow, anyone different is a threat, and I'm as different as it gets.

In the film, my hands make contact with Peeta's chest, and I see a faint, hardly noticeable, glow around my fingertips. When his eyes open and he speaks, the crowd erupts into cheers and applause. This whole thing is nothing more than a big performance to them.

I want to march out of there. How have other victors stood this? Certainly they can't all be inhumane, amoral, carnivorous, freaks of nature. How could they just wait and watch this? Cheer even? I glance at Peeta, who looks a bit shell-shocked at his miraculous rejuvenation, and sits with his hands limp at his sides, his eyes staring straight ahead. I place my hand atop his in an attempt to comfort him and his eyes meet mine, a small contrite smile lighting his features.

"Thanks." Is all he says. I don't know if he thinks I had done something to save him or not, hopefully the latter.

"For what?" I ask, my voice quiet and almost inaudible in comparison to the dull roar going on in the crowd. Moving my face releases the pent up emotions I've felt and causes a few tears to spring up and sparkle along the edges of my eyes, though I'm using all of my strength to hold them back.

"For staying with me, for not giving up after I died, for helping me the whole way."

"I didn't have a choice. I'm sure you'd do the same if Katniss was here." He looks surprised and his eyebrows knit together, creating a little confused wrinkle between them.

"Katniss? What does she have to do with this?" but his voice falters, despite his attempt to sound like he doesn't know of my reasons for bringing her up.

"I know you love her Peeta, it's okay. I just want you to be happy." Peeta's mouth opens and he's about to say something when Caesar interjects just in time to save him as well as myself from a certainly awkward response.

"Okay folks, that's all the time we have today! Make sure to tune in tomorrow for the tribute interviews!" as if they have a choice. "Let's have a final round of applause for Peeta Mellark and Maina Keeper, the victors of district twelve!" We stand and smile at the crowd as Caesar stands between us with his arms over our shoulders, posing for a picture.

"Let's go," I say through my clenched teeth, my lips still grinning. I'm not planning on lingering here any longer than necessary. Peeta nods quickly and I see a wave of relief relaxes his tense smile. I guess he wasn't much enjoying this movie either. I pivot on my toes and we walk right off the stage, leaving the cheering crowd behind us.


	16. Homecoming

My mind is whirling for the next few days, so badly that I feel I might get sick. Everything in the Capitol blends together in one big hodge-podge of extravagant events and gaudy clothes and ridiculous-looking people. We head to parties and talk with and dance with and are pleasant with so many petty but gracious Capitol residents who probably saved our lives with their sponsorships. I guess I should be more forgiving, they're not bad people, they just don't understand reality. The public screams for us and shouts our names wherever we are. The final interview sweeps by so quickly that I can almost feel the breeze through my hair as it passes. The only thing keeping me on the ground is knowing that it's almost over.

Today, I'll be back home. I await our arrival at the station anxiously. I feel queazy with anticipation and try to calm my breathing, which is edging towards hyperventilation. I can't wait to see my family, my friends, anyone or anything that I can recognize as being from home. Unfortunately, there is still one more agonizing hour until the engines halt in district twelve.

Suddenly, thinking about home begins to make me unbearably lonely, so I flee from my fancy plush car to the living room area. Then I can at least hear the bustle of the wait staff as they hurry to and fro, making preparations for our departure from the train, gathering our things and what not. I wait there, sitting on a soft purple sofa, with my face practically pressed against the window. I usually would've heard or seen him come in but I'm so preoccupied with my thoughts that I practically jump out of my skin when I hear the voice behind me.

"Excited to finally get home?" Peeta asks. I turn to face him as he sits beside me.

"You bet." I say. "How about you?"

"Totally. I'm a little nervous though. I'm a totally different person now." It's true. The Games have changed me too. You don't really think about it when you're safe at home, watching them on your tv, but when you experience it, there's no going back to your old self.

"Ya. I get what you're saying. Everything is going to be so different." My parents won't have to work, we'll live in a new house, I'll be stalked by camera crews periodically.

"At least it'll be home. And all that money can't hurt."

"Actually, I've been thinking about that." Peeta raises his eyebrows with curiosity. "I think I might like to start a sort of food pantry, where I can use some of my winnings to buy food and donate it to people in the Seam."

"I'd be happy to help out in that."

"I think we could change twelve for the better."

"I bet we can. Our winning will help out anyways, with Parcel Day and all."

"I wonder if they'll give people two parcels a month, since there are two of us." And we both laugh because the likeliness of the Capitol being generous after our unintentional defiance is so scarce that it's humorous.

A steward comes in then, carrying a basket of warm rolls and sets it on the coffee table in front of us. I pick up a square roll dotted with raisins and swirls of cinnamon. I rip off a bite sized piece and place it on my tongue, enjoying the sweet sensation that ripples throughout my mouth.

"So I guess you're still not telling me how you did it." The rest of the bread slips from my fingers and tumbles onto the couch, and then to the floor. I stare at him for one seemingly endless second until I wake from my stupor and quickly retrieve the roll from off the floor, wrap it in a napkin, and set it on the coffee table.

"Tell you how I did what?" I ask innocently, even though it's obvious to me what he's talking about.

"I was thinking about it last night as I was trying to fall asleep, and I decided there's something you're not telling me."

I just stare out the window, watching the world rush by right under my nose. Everything blurs together in big streaks of emerald and mahogany, the colors of our old forests. Reluctantly, I turn again, attempting to be resilient, but then staring into those sparkling blue eyes that can soften even the roughest edges.

"Why would I lie to you?" I ask, my voice helpless and feeble. I don't want to lie to him. In fact, this is a question I've been asking myself all along. Why _am_ I lying to him? Maybe it's time for me to speak up. He deserves to know.

He just looks at me with a quizzical expression, his face open with his eyebrows pushed together so that just a little pucker forms. I can feel the train slowing gradually. Our arrival must be drawing near. But I can't get myself to break the stare. Even when we emerge from the confines of the forest and roll up through district twelve gates, I don't look away. It's not until an attendant arrives to lead us to the exit that we are forced to leave all questions unanswered.

We stand side by side at the thick, steel train door that's stationed in the middle of the corridor that leads from the dining cart to the living room. Finally. I'm home. My family and friends wait outside along with camera crews that perch like birds on telephone wires, waiting to record our arrival.

My fingers fiddle nervously with the little beads that are stitched into the skirt of my knee-length blue dress. Reassuringly, Peeta reaches out and clutches my neurotic hand in his own. Immediately, my anxiousness flows away, making me calm and content like his touch always does.

I steel myself as the train door slides open. I'm easily affected by emotional events, so surely seeing the faces of my long-lost life will most likely move me to tears. But still, the Peeta's hand holds me to the ground like an anchor, so... dependable, so reliable. So... not how I am. I will never have his full trust unless I tell him this now. I scan the crowd of old faces, their screams of joy filling my ears.

My gaze comes upon pair of eyes that I shall never forget as long as I live. And as my stare locks onto my father's grinning, tear streaked face, I swear that I see him nod his head. With that last small encouragement, I look up at Peeta's face just as he glances down at me, his eyes expectant. My hands release his, as well as the safety that they exuded, and reach up to cup his ear. I stand on my tiptoes to bring my lips up to my palms.

In the blur of the moment and screaming and happiness, the woosh of the train ride, and the swirling of the whole world that is my life, I grasp onto one last shred of stability that holds me to the ground and manage to utter the eight words that I will never regret.

"There's more the me than meets the eye."

**Hey guys, thanks for reading! This is the end :( but I'm considering writing a sequel. If you think I should make another, then just say so in a comment or PM me. It's no fun writing if no one's going to read it! That's all! I hope you enjoyed Maina's Games!**


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